Harry The Hufflepuff Omakes
by goddessa39
Summary: Omakes for BajaB's story "Harry The Hufflepuff," where Petunia used the word 'lazy,' more than 'freak.'  No pairings


**Omakes for Harry the Hufflepuff **Ch. 3

Author: _Goddessa39_

Fic Author: _BajaB_

Disclaimer: HP belongs to that child abusing JK bi-atch, and HTH belongs to... BalaB.

Point: This started as a "Harry creates his own Philosophers Stone" and then skewed. Why would he want a PS when he could have mullah to create his perfect dream? And then some... I never did get to the point though. Oh well.

Genre: Humor/Parody?

Characters: Harry, Hermione, OCs, etc.

Timeline, well, First Year AU then.

Rating: T for Teen Insanity? How about K plus because I think the only harsh language is in the disclaimer, and the only danger is in the background of the fic and the Harry Potter franchise itself.

A/N: I don't usually write humor. I am morbid like that. However, this came out so enjoy it while it lasts.

A/N: 'Humor' means you can laugh, and 'parody' means you can leaugh, scream, but pointing out holes is like cleaning a toilet before you, err... pee.

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Omake 1: The Philosopher's Stone

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Hermione Granger, or Fuzzy, [Harry may not call her that to her face but that was her title as far as his mind was concerned] rushed quickly into the library. It was not at all strange to see her there, but that she was rushing towards someone instead of digging out a territory within the stacks was something out of the ordinary. It was lucky that no one really cared enough to follow her while in the bushy-haired girl's domain.

Harry had dug himself a seat, and seemed intent on remaining there. He was further in the library where tables began to get scarce like cattle in the center of the Forbidden Forest. Books were lain haphazardly around the table as if his pack mates were expected back any minute. That served to throw out any attention he did not want, and gave him a shield of anonymity.

This was all in despite of the fact that anyone who knew Harry Potter would have known he would not be caught doing anything productive in a group. Too much team work and the liklihood of peer pressure [likely via Hermione] was too great a horror to bother thinking about.

Just understand that this was one of those times where some brainiac overthought a problem and a solution.

A small stack of scrolls were rolled up in front of him, telling Hermione that he had already completed his homework and now he was going to sleep until Monday morning Transfiguration. Today was friday and astronomy had been cancelled. She gave a huff but knew not to press it.

"It's the philosopher's stone," she hissed through buck teeth.

His head shot up slowly. "No it's not. It's an alcoholic fruit drink only made in the Cayman Islands." His eyes blinked. "What?" he asked, laying his head on the table. His eyes weren't opened but... Hermione frowned at him, before trying to piece together why he was looking at her but not.

"Did you... did you get a tattoo?" She was very shocked.

He blinked his second pair of eyes.

"No," she sighed in relief before he could continue, "I just got some Runes drawn on the back of my eyes so it looks like they are still open, but I'm having trouble making sure my eyes don't roll up in my head in my sleep. Also, I haven't figured out the failsafe for the lain spell yet so that I will blink ever now and then."

Granger gave a strangled breath before closing her eyes, standing tall, and centering herself. "Ten, nine, eight..." she counted down slowly as she tried to remain in control of her emotions. [Why can't he use his powers of awesomeness for good?] Her good hand massaged the top of her nose where stress led to unconsciouable things.

"So what did you want?" he asked, before mentally wanting to hit himself [though he did not-too much effort there] for bringing her attention back to him.

She nodded and seemed calmer. Those Occlumency exercises were doing wonders for the girl. What Harry did not mention was that he was using them to create his homework assignments before loading it on the quill to write out while he slept.

"Oh, right. It's what Professor Dumbledore is hiding in the school."

"The Philosopher's Stone," Harry said to himself. "I thought it was the Sorcerer's Stone?"

Hermione blinked, wondered herself, before shaking her bushy head to throw out any strange ideas her strange and lazy friend was implanting in her subconscious.

"I mean, Flamel is a really dang old wizard," Harry began, "but what is the difference between a wizard and a sorceror. I know the fictional books from the real world have a thousand different ideas on magic denominations like 'wizard,' 'witch,' 'sorceror/ess,' 'magician,' and so forth but is there really one, or is it that six hundred years ago every one man subjecting their women was some mighty, yet forgotten, sorceror." Hermione blinked as Harry went on one of his rare, roundabout tangents.

She would only be quiet long enough for him to finish is circular argument with himself. Hermione was aware that, one day, he would come back to their frank discusion. She just had to keep her cool and not get the urge to punch someone, preferrebly Ronald Weasley, until then. Although, she had to admit it was kind of cute in an adorably funny way that Harry spoke all this while his head was nestled into the cloud-like pages of a book. Hermione's frown might have spoken to Harry's own will to live because he continued on enough to distract her from the misuse of her precious books.

"And even then, a philosopher is someone like a normal Ravenclaw [one of wit and learning' that seeks to answer life's most unknown questons like the meaning of it all [Life]. And Dumbledore may have worked out another use for dragon's blood [other than being 'acidic,' 'making stains,' and being 'rare,' or 'hard to get,'] but that says nothing about how he is a philosopher."

There was a moment of silence in the area of the stacks where to brilliant [but one of the was really too lazy] Hogwarts students stood alone. The little noise around them interfered like a distant buzz before retreating.

"And anyway," he shook his head, coming back to himself, "why should this matter?"

"What? How can yo-"

"Look, Hermione." He gave a small shutter as he actually sat up from his nap. "The way I see it, Dumbles has either a good reason or a really stupid reason [and so is insane] to hide it, though why do it in a school is not something I can figure out without losing my own prided sanity."

"Hogwarts is the most heavily warded, most defense heavy-"

"Troll."

"Well, the teachers-"

"Couldn't find the troll until you were nearly clobbered."

"They could ha-"

"But they didn't."

Hermione's face was now red and she was glaring at him for interrupting and poking holes into her mighty logic.

"Besides, even if whoever wants the ruby, actually got the stone," his hand flashed behind him dismissively, "which seems to be the case, how would they even find out to use it?"

Hermione's red face went dangerously pale and then she fell over backwards as her legs collapsed beneath her in a dead faint [unlike Quiirel's bad acting] and Harry knocked his head on the table.

"Troublesome."

Harry thought about standing, walking over, and hefting her up, but decided it was too much work. Then he thought about doing some magic to accio her over, or possibly just stick her to the roof so she would land feet first whenever she traveled back to the waking world, before remembering that that too was not worth it.

Also, his wand had dissapeared a while back and he had a feeling those little neat elf guys had taken it with his change of clothes three days ago. He told himself to go look for it later, but then he figured he'd have to remember it long enough for one of the funky little dudes to come to him in daylight. They were surprisingly limber about staying out of sight.

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And out of Omake 1 came the question-how to use this for the betterment of… err… Harry?

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Omake 2: Gems

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It was a while after Hermione, with a strange look on her face, that Harry did anything of note. The lazy boy woke up, looked up from book on geography he had been drooling on, before closing it [quietly as to not draw the book Nazi's attention] and switching it with another, this one on geology. He took half an hour to skim through some basic. What did he care about the flat plates of dry land in Arizona, or the way the plates of the world moved, creating earthquakes, volcanoes, and a number of huge acts of God. He didn't. No, that was not what he was looking for. He gave a yawn. "This is why I hate work," he told himself, "It never leads to anything useful when the answers are not lain out in front of me."

Finally Harry got to the section of the book that related more to minerals themselves. Without meaning to, he began reading aloud to himself, as if to pierce the far reaches of his brain still wishing for the vision of a perfect island he had seen in that strange mirror. He'd have to look at the realestate for the Caymen Islands.

"_Quartz is a chemical compound consisting of one part silicon and two parts oxygen. It is silicon dioxide (SiO2). It is the most abundant mineral found at Earth's surface and its unique properties make it one of the most useful natural substances,_

He looked over at a notebook off to the side [as it was so much easier to keep a notebook from the muggle world to keep his personal notes in compared to a bunch of scrolls that could get lost] and the pen that was copying his words alone. He gave a nod to see his last words had been marked down and penned as he found them important.

"_Diamonds are made of _

___carbon__ (C)... rubies are made of ____aluminum__ oxide (Al2O3)..." _He murmured just loud enough for the quill/pen/magic hybrid to pick up. The edges of an idea were beginning to form in his cautiously unused mind, lest he be forced to work. " he read. Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course it is natural." It was the next sentence that got his attention though. "_Quartz is the most abundant and widely distributed mineral found at Earth's surface_."

A memory came to him, sometime between the short paragraph between topaz and tourmaline that described color, hardness, use, and worth. Although he rarely got the chance to be alone on Privet Drive, he had occasionally gotten to look around on the computer, and was far more competent and calm than the obese blubber sack Petunia called 'Diddydums.' He could also recall what came of it. Dudley had trusted some myth about cooking peanut butter in a microwave on high for an hour. The whole thing, the microwave that is, had burnt out, and whatever was in the dish had gone toxic. It had been just one more stupid thing that he [whom had nothing to do with it except to clean what he could before the HAZMAT had roared down the road] had gotten the blame.

The cooking of peanut butter had been stupid, but it had begun to form the outside of the embryo of an idea.

Uncut gemstones of the sort and any real physical basis were formed through the earth out of three things: time, pressure, and heat. The heat he could deal with. The pressure would be tricky, but there were things that could be done about that. Time however, time would be difficult to get a hold of. His eyes turned naturally to the only moving object in sight. The pen quit moving as he was no longer mumbling, but a slow smile spread across his face.

Harry loved magic...

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The empty unused classroom was somewhere lost in the castle. Harry had no idea where exactly it was, only that Friese the house elf and he were dressed in identical outfits consisting of tinted goggles that made them each have eyes hidden from view, a circular face mask that sifted anything that was not oxygen away, and white plastic suits resembling those the HAZMAT team from years earlier had once worn. Norm the house elf popped in as soon as Harry was pleased with the strange ensembles in the similar outfit. Friese had charmed them appropriately from heat, sudden flames, anything that wasn't oxygen, and so on. In the middle of the room was a large area that Harry referred to as 'the cauldron.' There was no potion bowl of dark metal or coal, but it had the same use. The ingredients that would be going into 'the cauldron' were all spread around it in no particular order, and all that would be needed was a few spells to pick it up and put it together without causing any damage.

On all six sides [including top and bottom] was a see-through set of walls that were both charmed and runed to be impenetrable. Tiny runes were also inlaid though they were dark as in not activated and smaller sets in a pattern.

A circular orb of what could only be light floated near the top of the area in front of Harry and his good friendly house elf team. The circle was to, err, fumigate anything that might explode within.

Harry's right leg twitched up and down nervously. What he was about to do was both strange, dangerous, and likely to get him in to trouble. But on the plus side, at the end of this, he would either be dead, so excused from having to do anything, in the hospital wing, and so excused from attending classes, rich beyond his wildest dreams, which was the point, or remain in the same position with a failed experiment, and so be urged to work on something else in the path to embracing his future laziness. As far as he could see, it was a 75% chance to be a win-win situation.

[About here is where Fate slams her head into the wall trying to keep up with his strange ambition of fond laziness.]

"Countdown," Harry said professionally. A number in red appeared near the team and began a countdown similar to those held at NASA previously to a space launch as he did. "Ten... nine...eight...and so on...four...three...two...and one...ze-" Runes lit up brightly on the see-through box in strange quadrants. Apparently, nobody was quite sure of 'zero' really counts as a countable number. A large burst of air from each wall blasted into the middle of the stage area, pushing the ingredients such as silica and carbon together around a tiny ball of fiendfyre. A perfect sphere of... mush hung in 'the cauldron.'

"Set." Harry said aloud and Friese made a hand motion of dragging his right hand pointer finger from the high right to the low left of himself, as if doing an Elvis move and a pelvis thrust. On cue, a previously invisible ring of light runes appeared, spinning over the sphere of mixed ingredients. This was a time dilation, but instead of going inside to spend time nobody else had, he was forcing the material to form of pressure, time and heat. Checking his watch, Harry mentally counted down from 100 to zero. In the corner, his quill was still dictating on a muggle notebook inside a box of similar dressing to what Norm, Harry, and Friese were wearing.

"Form." Harry said sharply, and the ring stopped. There was a sudden burst of smoke as the friction on the edges of time strangled itself, before stopping. The splatter, smoke, and radiation exited out through the circle of light [which Harry thought of as 'the ventilation rope' in his mental space] and a few spells and magic flew from the house elves [and Harry reminded himself that he would have to locate his wand one of these days in order to keep his act of worker in class]. "It is safe, Master Harry Potter, sir." Norm stated. When Friese stated the same thing, the runed box walls disappeared into thin air like the mist that evaporates into the air of Death Valley.

"Tool," Harry demanded, and one of his little helpers placed an old fashioned pickaxe that miners and dwarves were fond of in his hand. He raised it high and then lowered it hard into the material. The world around him gave a ringing creak and the axe was stuck in a deep hole. It took him a moment to pull it out, but upon doing so, he backed up. He did not have to do any of this physically. He told the elves what to do, and after some bursts of magic [resembling "Reducto" and cleaner barragers] They cut the floating rock globe of a 6 foot diameter into four pieces.

Harry's face spent the effort to give a huge, cocky grin as he saw his future laid out in front of him. Because those four pieces that had fallen to the floor were giant pieces of a geode, and inside were a mixture of gems sharp and sparkly as anything. He licked his lips, already tasting an exotic fruit drink never found in Brittain upon his lips.

Maybe one of the elves could take care of the hammock for him?

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_End. Finished. Caput. Fin._

Review please, and tell me if you enjoyed it.


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